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Sunday, April 3, 2016

Good Days

I can never predict where, exactly, my body is going to be on the pain and fatigue scale from one day to the next. On a good day, it feels like I have the flu.

On a good day.

On any day I deal with any (and on occasion all) of these symptoms (sadly, never none of them):

Muscle pain

Joint pain

Congestion

Headaches

Low blood pressure

Thick blood (high platelets)

Dizzy spells

Constant fatigue

Noise sensitivity

Light sensitivity

Post-exertion malaise (and let's define exertion as anything as simple as getting up from the couch, or simply existing)

Immunodeficiency (that cold you have? My body's keen to catch it)

Brain fog (cognitive dysfunction)

Painful lymphnodes (even if they're not swollen)

Kidney dysfunction (frothy urine and abnormal kidney values)

My immune system is on hyper-alert, as though a major virus has invaded my system and it needs to throw everything at it in order to survive. Except, it's not fighting a major virus. It's just draining my energy and going after things like potatoes. Real viruses, like Epstein-Barr Virus, proliferate unchecked, making my viral load absurdly high.

I have a debilitating illness without a cure, or a clear diagnosis. This often leads me to feel more frustrated when I can't physically maintain the life I had, or the one I want. And it's not that I'm asking for the world. Being able to go out after work without dealing with side-effects would be amazing. Taking a dance class or going to a dance social here and there would be beyond phenomenal. Not having to weigh my every decision in a day against odds of getting more ill and wiped out would make me feel like I'm a person, not a person trapped in a dysfunctional, sick body.

So where does that leave me? On a good day, I'm left with acceptance and empathy for a body that's trying its very best to support me. On a good day. I'm trying to have more of those.